South Park Is Gay
by Cainneigh
Summary: South Park is hit with the Gay Plague.
1. Chapter 1

Cartman walked around the corner of the school's corridor, going to his next awful class. He stopped dead, however, when he saw Kyle and Stan making out by the lockers. Stan had Kyle pushed up against the wall, holding one of his hands, the other wrapped around Kyle's waist. Cartman couldn't believe it; through all his jokes about Kyle and Stan being gay, he'd never actually seen it.

When he finally got his breath back, Cartman shouted, "Hey, fags!" and laughing hysterically. Stan reluctantly turned away from Kyle to glance at the fatass who was almost rolling on the floor. In between fits of laughter, Cartman managed to get out, "And you never believed me when Ah told you gahs that you were queer. But seriously Stan, couldn't you do better than that stupid Jewboy?"

Stan scowled and lunged for Cartman, but was pulled back by Kyle. "Let me at 'im! I'm gonna give that fucking fatass what he deserves!" Stan struggled against Kyle's grip halfheartedly.

"Just let him laugh his fat ass to death. He would never understand anyway; the only person who's ever loved him is his mother", Kyle said, sliding his hand from Stan's arm to his hand, entwining their fingers. "Let's go." Almost out the school door, Cartman shouted after them.

"H-Hey guys, wait up!" Kyle and Stan kept walking. Cartman ran up behind them. "So, when were you gonna tell me that you two were fuck buddies?" Cartman had to keep from falling over laughing again. Stan glared at him.

Ignoring Cartman's language, Kyle replied, "Stan and I only got together yesterday, and why, of all people, would we tell you?"

Stan gripped Kyle's hand harder. "Yeah. You'd be the last person we'd tell, you stupid fucking ho-" Kyle was glad he was there to keep Stan from beating the hell out of Cartman, not that Cartman didn't deserve it.

Suddenly, Cartman froze. Kyle and Stan looked back at him. He was just standing there, a look of realization on his face. "Oh. Mah. Gahd." Stan and Kyle exchanged confused glances. Cartman looked back at them, yelling, "You've been infected! You're both infected! You two got it!" He was dancing around them, waving his hands in the air.

Stan rolled his eyes and asked, "Infected with what?" Knowing Cartman, his reply would be something like, "Queer syndrome" or "AIDS" or something stupid.

"You're infected with the Gay Plague!" Close enough.

"You don't know how stupid you sound. And look. We're leaving." Kyle started to walk away through the snow.

"No no! Ahm serious gahs! It was on the news yesterday; there's this disease going around and turning people geh! It struck North Park last night. And now it's in South Park! Ah've got to tell everyone!" And with that, he took off down the street.

Kyle and Stan shook their heads and started to make their way to Stan's house.

"So, you wanna play Guitar Hero?" Stan asked, hanging upside down off the couch. Kyle replied, "Sure" without even looking up. Stan sat up, flipped himself around and walked over to the TV. Switching it on, the channel was turned to the local news station.

"Breaking news!" the announcer cried. "As you may have heard, there is an epidemic sweeping the globe. And we have news that South Park has been hit with the first case! This disease, known as the Gay Plague, turns heterosexual men into Chihuahua-toting, baking, singing queers. The early symptoms are: nail polish, listening to musicals and Elton John, and an attraction to Clay Aiken. If you know any males who are exhibiting these symptoms, please report it immediately. We do not know how this infection is contagious, and there is no known cure at this time. Please stay tuned for our special report at 11."

Stan, his hand still on the remote, was gaping at the screen. Kyle's mouth was hanging open as well. "You mean... Cartman wasn't lying? There actually is a Gay Plague?" But it had sounded so like Cartman!

"Apparently. But that means… we're only together because we have a disease." Stan thought about what he'd just said. Did this mean that he didn't actually like Kyle?

"Well I don't care what they say; I've always loved you. Even if I didn't notice it, or admit it." Kyle knew that what he felt for Stan wasn't just a chemical imbalance in his brain or foreign cells in his bloodstream. It was a feeling in his heart. But did Stan feel it, too?

Stan smiled. "I know. Fuck the disease. I love you, too. But still, I'm gonna find Cartman and rip his fat, tattling ass to bits!"

It was only a few minutes until the start of class, and Mr. Garrison's room was buzzing with news of the outbreak in South Park. Bebe and Wendy had the girls huddled in one corner of the classroom, Stan and Kyle, in another, and Cartman and Clyde taking over another.

"I take it all of you have heard the news about the GP", Wendy announced. All the girls nodded. Bebe took over.

"Well, we have to defend ourselves!"

Wendy looked over at her best friend, confused. "Bebe, what are you talking about?"

Bebe looked a little shocked. "What I mean is, we have to find a way to stop this! Girls, if you have a boyfriend, keep him close. Do whatever it takes to keep him with you. Don't let him go and hang out with his friends. If we don't fight, our boys will leave us and take over our jobs, like cooking and shopping, and cheerleading! And they won't pay us any attention!" The group of girls again began to speak in hushed, anxious tones.

"Bebe! There's nothing wrong with being gay. And nothing like that is ever going to happen. Girls, listen to reason; there is no evidence to suspect that anything like this will occur. There is nothing to worry about!" But all the girls turned to Bebe.

"We have to fight!" A girl cried.

"Yeah!" the rest echoed. The group of girls began to make plans of what to do, while Wendy was waving her arms, pleading, and being completely ignored.

"I realize this is a very touchy topic", Stan began, "but there is nothing wrong with being gay. And really, what's the big deal? I doubt anything is going to happen anyway." Kyle and Stan took turns sharing their views to the small group of boys that surrounded them, including Butters, Tweek, and Pip.

"We must naht let this disease spread! We must bring down all the fags in this town once and for all!" Cartman was going wild. "Unless you ahll want to become butt-fucking fags, then you will ahll report any homosexual behavior to meh immediately! Now, who wants to stay straight?!" This was met by a cheer from most of the boys in that corner. Clyde then began his speech.

"And if things come to it, we may even have to join forces with the girls. But in the end, it will all be for the best", he concluded. A few boys clapped. Most of the fourth grade boys had joined Cartman's Fight Against Gays Society. Cartman, of course, was the leader, with the popular Clyde Donovan as his Commander in Chief. Craig was there mostly because he was friends with Clyde, and Token, Timmy, Jimmy, Bill and the others for various reasons.

The bell rang and everyone returned to their seats, ready to start their day.

Kyle and Stan were walking home, hand in hand, when they heard "Stan!" Looking over their shoulders, they saw Wendy catching up to them. When she did, she cried, "I want to join your group." Kyle and Stan exchanged glances.

"Oh, uh, okay." Bebe had probably taken over the girls, forcing Wendy to join a boy's group. But she could be a powerful asset; she was popular, moral and ambitious. A born leader, she could take over Stan and Kyle's group if they need her help.

Meanwhile, the Fight Against Gays Society had organized itself in Cartman's basement. "The first thing we must do is very cleeah; we have to take down Stan! He's leading the queer movement, so by taking out the leadah, we will be able to take down the gehs!" He stood on the table, looking down at the boys. Some were nodding, some whispering amongst themselves. Token raised his hand. "Yes, Token?"

"What about Kyle? Isn't he also a leader?" This statement heard some "Yeah"s from the rest of the table.

Cartman snickered. "You mean that bitch? He's so pusseh, we don't need to worry about him. The only thing protecting him is his little 'cooh guy' boyfriend. Just take out Stan and we've won!"

School had just let out. Cartman stood in the middle of the street with his posse behind him, Clyde by his side. Stan stood opposite him, his smaller gang behind him, Kyle and Wendy by his side. Bebe came to stand on Cartman's other side, followed by the girls. Apparently, Bebe and Cartman had made an allegiance against Stan.

Cartman was the first to talk. "We're gonna take you down, fags! I am going to rid this town of dirty homos like you!" Kyle laughed. "Eh! What's so funny Jewfag?"

"Well can't you see how gay you look, Cartman? I mean, you're wearing a shirt with 'I support F.A.G.S.' written across it, for God's sake." It was true; Cartman had made a T-shirt with the initials of his group on it. "Besides, you don't want to come near me; I might be contagious. You're just jealous because I have someone who loves me. And the only person who would ever love you is your mother!"

Every kid, whether boy or girl, Cartman's or Stan's side, gasped. It was on. Kyle had gone there.

"Well, well…" Cartman stammered. "At least she's a girl! And at least she doesn't have AIDS!"

Stan's turn. "Good thing for you, or else you and every other male in this town would have it!" he cried. More gasps and snickers.

Cartman knew he had to be quicker. Bebe jumped in. "Not every male. You queers would have gotten it from each other! And Wendy's only on your side, Stan, because she's jealous of losing her ex-boyfriend to a guy!" All eyes turned to Wendy.

"That's not true! I'm very happy for Stan, and there's nothing for me to lose because he's only my ex! I joined his group because it's the right thing to do! So screw you Bebe! And every other one of you homophobes!" Wendy was bright red and her fists were clenched tight. Bebe had really gotten to her.

Craig stood there and flipped Stan's group off. "Gah! Oh, God! They're gonna kill me! Too much pressure!" was heard from somewhere behind Stan. Then, all hell broke loose. Cartman lunged at Kyle, causing Stan to jump on him. Clyde came up and attempted to pry Stan off Cartman, but earning a swift punch to the arm by Stan. Bebe shrieked and went for Stan, but Wendy got to Bebe first. Bebe was trying to pull Wendy's hair, and Wendy was going for Bebe's neck. Craig was flipping people off left and right, and taking swings at anyone who got close to him. He managed to hit Kyle, who was already busy trying to defend himself from Red. Tweek was in the midst of the chaos, twitching violently and screaming about how he was going to be killed and how this fighting was too much pressure. Cartman had managed to slip away from Stan, who had been too busy with Clyde, and was now towering over Pip and Butters. Pip and Butters were hiding behind each other and shaking in fright, until Butters came up to Cartman and bit him on the arm, which in turn made Cartman stop in shock, then start crying for his 'Meeeeeehhhhm'. Jimmy was poking Timmy with his crutches, all the while Timmy screaming his war cry 'Timmaaaayyyyy'. One the sidelines, sitting in the grass, were Kenny and Damien. Kenny was laughing at the brawl in front of him, and Damien was smirking, loving the fighting and violence. Suddenly, a shoe came flying from the street and hit Kenny square in the face. Kenny fell backwards, very bloody and presumably dead. Out of all the commotion, Stan yelled, "Hey, someone killed Kenny!" and was followed by Kyle, shouting, "That bastard!"

In the end, there were just a bunch of kids lying in the middle of the road, exhausted. The death count stood at one, Kenny now being eaten by rats. Many of the boys had bruises and scratches, the girls with mostly cuts and disheveled hair. One by one, each kid made their way home, defeated and depleted.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a bright new Wednesday in South Park. All the kids in Mr. Garrison's class had arranged themselves in a new seating chart, according to whose side you belonged to. Mr. Garrison opened his classroom door and walked in, announcing, "Class, we have a new student. He just moved to South Park, and I expect all of you to welcome him. His name is Christophe."

A tough looking brunette wearing very dark colors walked in, eyeing the kids. He was shown to his seat in the corner of the room. Throughout the rest of the day, some of the kids sitting next to him would whisper a few words and ask him a few questions, but the new kid remained silent.

Cartman was rounding the corner of the school corridor when he bumped into Pip, knocking them both flat on the floor. Pip's school books were scattered across the ground as well. Pip looked up to see who he had run into. Bad luck for him; it was Eric Cartman. Cartman plucked his fat ass up off the ground and came to tower over Pip once again.

"Ey! Watch where yoh goin' little fuckah!" he shrieked. Pip's heart was beating in fear when Cartman reached down and yanked him up by the collar.

_Oh God, he's going to kill me_, Pip thought. Pip's old fashioned brown hat fell off and floated to the floor. Cartman picked up Pip so that the small English boy was dangling off the ground. He then slammed Pip into the lockers, causing Pip to whimper.

"Why you sarray little bitch!" Cartman raised his arm, readying himself to punch Pip as hard as he could. Pip was about to close his eyes and pray when he saw Cartman go flying across the hallway. What had happened?

Pip glanced around. That's when he saw his savior. Damien was clenching his fist, which had just become enclosed in a fireball. Slowly, Damien trudged over to Cartman, who was now lying on the ground again. Cartman saw someone overshadowing him. "Ey! What the fuhck was that foah?" he cried. He opened his mouth to say something else very nasty when he suddenly became quiet. He shut his mouth immediately, upon seeing that it was Damien who had hit him. _Oh shit_, he thought.

Damien leaned down close to Cartman's face. His dark eyes glared menacingly at the large boy. Damien whispered, "You weren't trying to hurt Pip, now were you? 'Cause if you were, I'd have to damn you to Hell right here, right now. And we don't want that. Well, you don't." He grinned very evilly and Cartman gulped. Cartman nodded violently, bobbing his head up and down. Damien was even more intimidating when he wasn't screaming and throwing fireballs at you. Damien continued, standing up straight. "So why don't you get your fucking fat ass up and pick up Pip's things for him. Oh, and apologize while you're at it."

Cartman jumped to his feet and dashed around collecting the English boy's books faster than Pip had ever seen Cartman do anything in his life. As he was handing the books back to Pip, Cartman muttered, "Sorry."

"Louder!"

"Sorry, Pip!" Cartman roared, stiffening at Damien's voice. Getting the approval from the son of Satan, Cartman made a mad dash down the hall way and through the closest door.

When Cartman was out of sight, Pip cautiously glanced over at his hero. Damien caught him looking. "What?" he barked.

Pip quickly turned his gaze to the ground. "Sorry. I just- just… why? Why did you help me? I thought you hated me." Without looking up, Pip saw Damien's shadow getting closer until Damien was standing but only a few inches from Pip.

"Because no one fucks with my Pip."

Pip's head shot up, eyes wide. Had he heard Damien correctly? "Ah, wha- wuh, I…?" he stammered. Damien took a few more looks at the confused boy in front of him, and he was gone.

"Hey dude. I thought you'd died", said Stan when he spotted Kenny leaning against the school's outside wall and smoking a cigarette. Kenny had been taking his hood off more frequently. Then he saw that the new kid was with him. "Oh, hey. Uh, what was your name again?"

The brunette took a drag from his own cig and answered, "I am ze Mole, just another of God's mizerable beetches." Stan would almost have classified this new kid, the Mole, as a Goth at first. But now he found that would have been a very wrong judgment.

"Okay…" At first, the Mole had been bombarded by Wendy, Bebe, Clyde and Cartman to join either Stan's or Cartman's side. But in the end, he had chosen to stick with Damien and Kenny, the 'group' that just didn't give a damn about the entire fucking thing. "Well I'm gonna be with Kyle if you wanna come."

Kenny shook his head. "Nah, I was gonna hang with Christophe today." Stan was still getting used to hearing Kenny's voice without it being muffled by his parka. Stan nodded and went to go find his boyfriend, leaving Kenny and the Mole to do whatever.

Kenny and Christophe had started back to Kenny's house when they had bumped into Pip. "Oh, sorry", Pip apologized. But he and Christophe had already locked eyes. The little Brit glared at the Frenchman, who was returning the look. They both lunged for each other at the same time.

Pip was shouting, "Why you no good, dirty, filthy Frenchy! You're gonna die, righto!"

And Christophe was yelling, "Why you zee here, you fooking Breet! Sheet!"

Damien just popped out of nowhere and came between the two rival foreigners. Holding each boy at bay with one arm, he turned his head to Christophe and said, "You may be new, but no one touches him", he indicated Pip. "If you lay one fin-" Damien was cut off by Kenny stepping between the Devil's son and his new friend.

"And you don't touch him", Kenny pointed to Christophe. Damien was amazed that someone was standing up to him.

"Listen here you fucker, if you get in my way, I'm going to send you to Hell and back." Being the son of Satan sure had its benefits.

But Kenny just yawned. "Oh please, been there, done that." Damien was shocked. What a freak. Damien just led Pip away, and Kenny dragged Christophe down the street in the opposite direction.

"I don't see why you had to keep me from tearing that Frenchy apart", Pip muttered angrily. Damien tried putting his hand on Pip's shoulder, but Pip brushed it away. Damien smiled.

"Because that boy would have kicked your tiny British ass." Pip resented that comment, glaring up at Damien and telling him that the Brits were far superior to the French. "But he had a fucking shovel with him. He'd 'a killed you", Damien pointed out.

"Um, two questions", the Brit asked.

"Yes?"

"Righto. Well first, where are we going and why are you being nice to me?" Pip had stopped walking, realizing that he didn't know where he was going. He had just been walking because he was mad, and he had just been following Damien's lead.

Damien turned around to look down on Pip. "Where do you want to go?"

At the moment, Pip just wanted to go home. But he couldn't just tell the Prince of Darkness to shove off. So he replied with the next best place. "Stark's Pond."

Pip was dangling his feet in the water and making little circles on the pond's surface. Damien stood behind him, leaning against one of the thick, tall pine trees. They had been like this, in silence, for a few minutes. "You never answered my other question", Pip said quietly.

"Yes I did. Earlier, remember? I said that no one touches my Pip", came from behind him.

Pip stared at his reflection in the dark water. "Y-yes. I remember that. But, what do you mean?" He was confused by Damien acting so nice towards him. And what did Damien mean that he was 'his' Pip? Pip stiffened his back when he felt hot breath on the back of his neck. Continuing to look at the water, he saw in the reflection that Damien was squatting behind him with their heads next to each other.

"I mean that you are mine. I want you, and I always get what I want", Damien breathed. He was having a great time making Pip scared. Pip was practically shaking underneath him.

"You- you want me?"

"Mhm", Damien nodded. With that, Damien leaned forward just a little and bit Pip's bare neck lightly. Pip, unprepared for it, shut his eyes and threw his head back, tilting it a little. Pip let out a small moan, which made Damien grin into Pip's neck. Damien pulled back again.

When Pip had recovered, he said, "Oh, now I get it. You're infected. You've got it, don't you? You have the Plague." Pip rested his hands in his lap, his head slumped down, as if feeling disappointed.

Choosing to ignore Pip's more recent comments, Damien asked, "C'mon Pippers, you know you're mine. And you know that there's no escape." He licked Pip's cheek and placed gentle kisses down Pip's throat. "What are you worried about?" he asked in between kisses.

Pip could hardly deny to himself that Damien had him. He answered, "I thought you hated me. You're going to try to kill me again. You scare me and you hurt me." It was harsh, but Pip had to be honest.

"Oh Pip, I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want anyone to hurt you."

Pip knew this wasn't Damien talking; it was the disease. But Pip knew he had enjoyed Damien's intimacy. Pip had a crush on Damien, so he might as well enjoy Damien's affections before they wore off or were cured. "Okay." He sighed. And so Pip and Damien remained at the pond, sharing kisses and love.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dude, you may be pretty new around here, but don't go picking fights with the son of Satan or any of his fri- well, his one friend. And I'd have thought you two would've gotten along well, you hating God and him being the Devil's son an' all." Kenny shrugged. They had made it to Kenny's without another incident.

Christophe had sat on Kenny's bed while Kenny had gone to collect the alcohol in his house. He came back to the room with his arms full of vodka and whiskey. He had even found an unopened bottle of wine. Half an hour later, Kenny was strewn on the floor, Christophe lying on his bed.

"Did I ever- hic!- tell you that my mother stabbed me in ze haht with a clothes hangar while I was steel in ze womb?" Christophe asked drunkenly.

Kenny laughed and hiccupped at the same time. "Ah, that's nothin'. Once, a satellite fell on me, and another time, I was attacked by turkeys, hit in the face with a – hic! – boomerang…" Kenny's voice faded out. "Ya know, God's a bitch!"

Christophe rolled to lay on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. "God? He is ze biggest beetch of zem all." After a few seconds of silence, both boys started cracking up.

"Hey, you're pretty cool. For a new kid." Kenny took his hand and hit his radio. It turned on and blasted whatever station it had been tuned to last. Kenny stood up and started dancing. Christophe soon joined him. They looked like idiots, but they were both too drunk to notice. The bedroom party quickly turned into a street party, Kenny leading Christophe outside and down the street.

By the time they got to 'downtown' South Park, if you could call it that, they were totally wasted. Kenny had to lean on Christophe to keep from falling over. The two boys each had an arm around the other to keep their balance, although they still staggered across the sidewalk in a bee line. They bumped into a few adults, who gave them disgusted looks. In front of the piano store, they also ran into Kyle and Stan.

"H-hey guyyyyyysssss", Kenny managed to slur out, clumsily waving to his two best friends. He and Christophe staggered over to them together.

"Wow, Kenny. You are soooo drunk." Stan rolled his eyes.

Kenny smiled crookedly and patted Stan on the back saying, "It's okay – hic! – though'causeI'mblonde!" He slurred the last few words and continued to grin stupidly.

Kyle just looked at Kenny like he was an idiot. "Dude, that didn't even make sense." Stan looked at Kyle and simply shook his head.

Christophe was confused. "Yes eet did. Like… like potato zoop and… and fooking guard dogs." He nodded, sure of his logic. He squeezed Kenny's waist and Kenny hiccupped again, still grinning.

"Whatever guys, just try not to get arrested." With that, Stan and Kyle left. Behind them, they could hear two voices half screaming, half singing the words, "I want to ride my bicycle! I want to ride my biiiiiiiike!" followed by an outbreak of maniacal laughter.

Kenny and Christophe had collapsed under a giant tree. The alcohol seemed to be wearing off a little. Christophe pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. It took him a few tries to light it, since his hand was shaking slightly, but he finally got it. Leaning against the stump of the tree, Kenny said, "Ya know, I think I really like the smell of night time."

Christophe leaned on the tree next to Kenny. Turning his head, Christophe just said, "You are very drunk."

"I swear to fucking God I'm not!" Kenny shouted at his new friend.

"Now, hey! Don't you look at me in that tone of voice!" Christophe looked a little angry, but Kenny just laughed. Soon he had Christophe laughing with him. "Ooh! Want to hear a joke?" Kenny nodded. "Okay, so there were zese two muffeens in an oven. One muffeen zed 'Ey! Eet's getting hot in here!' and ze other muffeen backed away in surprize, zaying, 'Holee sheet! A talking muffeen!'" Kenny paused a moment to think it over, then clutched his sides in laughter.

Once he had quieted down a bit, Kenny reached over and grabbed the cigarette out of Christophe's mouth, whining, "Hey! Let me have a drag!"

Christophe snatched it back, complaining, "Ey! Now eet 'az your spit on eet!"

"And what's so wrong with my spit, huh?" Kenny asked as he grabbed it back. He took an extra long drag on it, just to annoy Christophe. Then, he leaned over and licked Christophe's cheek.

Christophe wiped Kenny's saliva off of his face. "Agh!"

"See? It wasn't so bad."

Christophe cocked an eyebrow. "I steell like mine better." He rubbed his wet hand on his black T-shirt. He glanced up to see Kenny giving him a rather scary look.

"Oh, we'll see about that." Kenny was grinning evilly. Next thing Christophe knew, Kenny's mouth was on his.

Christophe realized that he was kissing Kenny back. He and Kenny were now playing tonsil hockey. And to be honest, Kenny's spit really wasn't all that bad. Christophe felt Kenny pull away, leaving his mouth dry and wanting.

Kenny was looking questioningly at him. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

What a flirt. But he was right. Christophe shook his head, which had Kenny grinning again. Kenny pushed himself up off the dirty ground, explaining, "Well, let's get going then." _What a fucking tease_, Christophe thought. Kenny felt Christophe grab his wrist and pull him roughly back down to the ground. Kenny smirked in the darkness.

"I don't think zo", Christophe whispered to Kenny, the smell of alcohol still hanging thickly on his breath. His voice sent shivers up Kenny's spine. Kenny had been waiting for this. Christophe turned the other boy around, so that his face was only inches away from the other's. It was Christophe that started it this time; he pressed his mouth against Kenny's, who let him take control. Kenny eventually led Christophe back to his house, up the stairs, and into his room.

Kenny pushed Christophe onto his bed and stood above him, grinning with pride. He leaned above Christophe and slowly started to inch the boy's tight shirt up his skinny frame, leaving a trail of kisses up the French boy's stomach. Christophe flung his head back, his mouth open slightly and emitting a soft groan. Kenny had managed to slide the shirt off, with a little help from Christophe. Now Christophe was grabbing madly at Kenny's orange hoodie, trying desperately to get it off of him. "Dammeet, Ken", Christophe growled, still pulling on the fabric. Kenny helped him out so that they were both shirtless on his bed. Kenny was posed on all fours on top of the slightly smaller boy, who was almost panting beneath him. Kenny leaned down to capture Christophe in another fiery kiss before nudging him suggestively. Christophe licked Kenny's ear and ruffled his light blonde hair affectionately. Kenny tugged down Christophe's dark pants and boxers in one swift pull, and kicking his off directly afterwards. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out a small tub of lube. Of course he had some hidden under there, that little perv. While Kenny was beginning to relax him, Christophe studied the way Kenny's golden hair reflected the light; it seemed to create a halo around his head. Kenny thrust into the boy, making him moan with pleasure. Christophe clawed into Kenny's soft skin and arched his back. Kenny kept thrusting harder and faster, almost howling with delight. Each boy's hand slid across the other in moments of intense want. Climaxing, Christophe cried Kenny's name, Kenny echoing with a whispered, "Christophe!"

Kenny laid his head on Christophe's chest, feeling it rise and fall with his sleeping breath. Christophe's eyes were closed, and he no longer had that tough, protective outer layer that engulfed him. Kenny liked to see him vulnerable and peaceful. The blonde laced his fingers through Christophe's soft brown hair and fell asleep listening to his friend's melodic breathing.

"Okay, okay. So, does anyone have any news on the Plague?" Cartman had gathered his group in the hallway before school started, hoping that someone had news.

Bill raised his hand eagerly. Cartman called on him. "Ooh, I heard that Kenny and that new kid were seen together last night. Kissing." He smiled smugly, proud to be the only one with breaking news.

"Kenneh? That faggot. Ah knew it! The new kid maht have been some perv who pehyed him to do it. Kenny'd do anything for money. Although maybe he just did it 'cause he's a perv, too." Cartman stopped to think about it. "But either way, it's not a case of the Geh Plague, you gahs. It's just a case of there being two fags who go to ah school."

The group of fourth grade boys and girls jerked their heads around when Red came racing around the corner. Out of breath, she stopped to lean her hands on her knees. The kids were staring at her in question, some asking what the problem was. "Hey, Damien and Pip were just seen entering the school. Holding hands!" she gasped, panting.

"What?!" Cartman screeched. He led the hoard of elementary schoolers to where Pip and Damien had last been seen. Sure enough, there they were, hands still clasped together. Damien was supposed to be evil and apathetic; how could he let this disease take hold of him like that, Cartman wondered. The mob stood quiet and looked to Cartman for instruction. Cartman seemed lost in thought, however, so it was Clyde who took charge.

"Well, what're ya waiting for? Get 'em!" As much as they had talked about ridding South Park of the Gay Plague and all its victims, they'd never really discussed what to do when they came across one of the infected. So not knowing what it was they were actually supposed to be doing, the gang followed Clyde's words and slowly started to crowd around the son of Satan and the small, terrified English boy who was now clutching at his shirt.

Pip stared around at all the menacing faces that kept approaching him. He and Damien were trapped; there was no way out. He clutched frantically at Damien's shirt, yearning for protection. He felt so guilty for leading Damien into this. God knew it wasn't Damien's fault. Damien was simply under the influence of the Plague. It was Pip who had let Damien come to school with him and flaunt their affections in Cartman's face. Stupid. But then, maybe Pip himself was infected. _If you're infected_, Pip thought, _do you know it?_

Damien wasn't letting anyone but himself anywhere near his Pip. He summoned all the energy he could and released it as a bubble of transparent fire that surrounded himself and Pip. The group of his classmates that had been advancing now stared wide-eyed in fear before running screaming from his path. Clyde's face was that of shock. Did they seriously think that they were going to be able to hurt him? Had they all forgotten that he was the son of the Devil? Cartman was not calling for his 'Meeeehhhhm', surprisingly. Instead, he walked right up to the sphere of flames and knocked on it, screaming, "Ey! We're gonna get you sooner or latah! And you're sweet little boyfriend, too!" The rest of the school day was uneventful for both Pip and Damien. Nobody had built up the courage to stand up to Damien again. But they would at some point, Damien knew.


	4. Chapter 4

Craig was bored. His parents wouldn't be home for hours and he'd already gotten bored with his new Guitar Hero. There seriously wasn't anything to do in this town; he'd been walking up and down the streets a million times and found nothing to do. The chilly wind picked up and blew his hat tussles in front of his face. It nipped at his nose and reminded him how cold he was. Luckily for Craig, Tweak's Coffee Shop was right down the street.

Tweek looked up from his spot behind the counter. He saw a shivering Craig walk in and remove his hat. Although it was cold outside, Tweek hadn't had a customer for a few hours. His parents had decided that he was now old enough to run the store on his own for a little while. "O-oh. Hello, Craig." The little blonde boy twitched slightly.

"Hey." Craig plopped himself down on a bar stool directly opposite Tweek, slouching forward with his elbows on the counter. He ruffled his black hair and returned to staring at Tweek.

Craig was staring at him. "Gah! What?" he asked in a panic. Craig just smirked. "Do you, do you want something?"

Craig listened amusedly to the small blonde's fidgety sentences. The way he was always so jumpy and nervous, it was almost cute. Craig had never thought of another boy as cute before, but it seemed to be the perfect word to describe Tweek at that instant. Tweek continued to squirm around in front of him, so Craig just told him, "I'd like something hot. You decide." Craig was thinking that if he let Tweek make the decision, then Tweek would get even jumpier and cuter. He was right.

At least Craig had finally spoken to him. But now he had to choose. Tweek thought of all the horrible things that could happen if he made the wrong choice. "Gah! I – I can't. It's too much pressure!" With that, Tweek ran his fingers through his milky blonde hair, making it messier than it already was. The almost evil smirk on Craig's face didn't help to calm him down.

"Hey, if it makes it any easier on ya, I'll choose." Craig's offer was immediately accepted by Tweek, who nodded his head violently. Tweek was relieved to be rid of the pressure. Craig slid off the bar stool and climbed onto the counter so that his legs were dangling off the edge, his back to the door and his face towards Tweek. He slouched over a little and put his arms between his legs, grinning at the smaller boy.

Tweek was rather alarmed when Craig climbed over the counter and sat down on it. The way Craig was sitting and looking at him… Tweek thought it was quite sexy. And the way Craig pursed his lips ever so slightly; it was so seductive. And the way Craig's gorgeous black hair – wait! Tweek couldn't seriously be thinking that about anyone, much less a boy, and his friend at that! Tweek tried to push those thoughts of Craig from his mind, but was quite unsuccessful, since Craig continued to stare at him in such a way. A light blush crept up onto Tweek's face. He hoped Craig wouldn't notice.

Craig, however, noticed how Tweek's perfectly pale cheeks were beginning to turn slightly pink. He chuckled, which only caused the pink to transform into a soft red. Hopping down off the counter, Craig grabbed Tweek's wrist, pushed the boy's back against the tiled wall, and pressed his own lips to his.

Tweek was momentarily shocked when he was suddenly forced against the wall, and then finding a pair of soft, sweet lips on his. It took him a moment to realize that Craig was kissing him. Craig, that provocative, hot little – no! Not again! Against Tweek's better judgment, but right with his instincts, Tweek timidly returned the kiss.

When Craig removed his mouth from Tweek's, he looked down on the other boy to gauge his reaction. Tweek had his eyes shut tightly, his mouth pursed a bit, and a dark red blush on his cheeks. _At least he wasn't freaking out_, Craig thought. Craig had suspected that Tweek would have pushed him away and started screaming about how it was too much pressure. But no, Tweek had accepted, even returned his kiss. Tweek was shivering faintly, his eyes still screwed shut. Craig reached a cold hand to Tweek's pink cheek. When he caressed it, Tweek's eyes flew open.

Tweek had been thinking about why Craig would do something like kiss him, when he felt a cold hand touch his cheek gently. He quickly opened his eyes to see that Craig was staring at him with curiosity and something else that Tweek could not recognize. The only thing Tweek could get to come out of his unusually quiet mouth was, "Wh-why did you, uh, do that?" He wanted to shrink away from Craig's hand, to push it away from him, yet at the same time, he wanted Craig to keep it there forever.

Craig thought Tweek looked a mess. Well, Tweek was a mess in general, but right now, the blonde boy looked so confused as well. He looked frightened, but not angry. His eyes were curious, but lost. Craig's simple answer was, "I told you. I wanted something hot." He watched as Tweek mulled over the statement in his mind, finally deciphering it. Tweek was kind of naïve, but he wasn't stupid.

Did Tweek hear him correctly? Did Craig really just admit that he thought Tweek was hot? Surely Tweek was wrong. "B-but, Craig…" he stammered out. Craig kept staring at him, so he turned his eyes to the floor.

Craig gently wrapped an arm around Tweek's waist. Tweek had been lost in thought, so he jumped when he felt it. Craig gazed down into Tweek's big turquoise eyes, which had lost that scared appearance, and were now merely inquisitive. "I love you", Craig whispered softly. If it were possible, Tweek's eyes grew even larger.

At this point, Tweek was genuinely confused, and so not knowing how to react to such a situation, he simply went with impulse. Tweek flung his arms around Craig's neck and buried his face in Craig's soft blue hoodie. Craig was startled by this unexpected event from Tweek, but regaining his composure, he hooked his other arm around the blonde's waist and nuzzled against Tweek's ear.

Back at Stan's house, Kyle and Stan had fallen asleep on the couch, the television still tuned to Comedy Central. The speakers threw out the jokes of Terrance and Phillip, but they fell on deaf ears. Stan was lying flat on the sofa, one arm hanging off the side. Kyle was piled on top of Stan, his head snuggled close to Stan's chest, rising and falling with it. Stan's other hand was tangled up in Kyle's hand and rested near Kyle's head. They might have a hard time sorting out who was who in the morning.


End file.
